Storytelling
by the-kings-tail-fin
Summary: Ryan Laney makes a hasty decision, but not one that he regrets.
1. Chapter 1

He hadn't really planned on her.

"Don't have kids until you're ready."

"Children are not decisions to be hastily made."

"Don't throw away your career, Laney. You've got too much to lose."

"You did _what_."

Family and friends all told him the same thing, to not listen to his emotions. Emotions would screw him over, they said. He had a chance at greatness, a chance that no one else could dream of. A chance at being a Piston Cup champion.

But he fell for her.

Team Blinkr had spent the week doing publicity campaigns and volunteering at the nearby adoption centers. Metro Detroit was packed full of them with the Big Three manufacturers all operating within a few short miles of each other. It was a tradition for the team. Ryan couldn't deny he looked forward to it.

It was nothing like what he expected. There were children everywhere, all waiting to be adopted. Some were newer, having just shown up from the factory. Some were older; they'd been there a few months already. There were all different models - sedans, coupes, muscle cars, luxury cars, SUVs, pickup trucks and more. Every shape, every size, every color.

One thing they had in common was their fascination with Team Blinkr. They immediately surrounded the race team while the nurses and assistants that kept the toddlers in check more or less corralled them to different corners of the room. Everyone would have a chance to meet the racer, they said. Words were lost on a sea of curious eyes.

The team set up shop in the middle of the floor and gave a brief explanation of what racing is, using more pictures and video footage than words. They then commenced to exhibit a full pit stop on Ryan, right there in the middle of the hundred or so children.

They loved it. Did they have a clue what was going on? Absolutely not. But there were funny sounds and bright colors and forklifts moving at incredibly high speeds around this car with a cool sounding engine. What wasn't to love?

The team then dispersed to spend time with the kids, playing games and reading stories from picture books.

Ryan looked around the room. His pitties all had a swarm of little cars around them. A line of them formed behind him, like ducklings behind their mother, following him to the far corner of the room where he'd been told to sit. He was planning on reading them the story of a historic race that happened a decade or so prior. He was going to -

He saw her. She was a little small for her age, shy, and parked half hidden behind a bookcase. A black Chevrolet Tahoe with deep green eyes, she stared at him as he passed her.

He stopped in his tracks, the Cruze behind him almost ran into his bumper.

"You wanna hear a story?" he asked her.

She rolled forward a little at his beckoning, intrigued. His blue and orange paint was beautifully complex in her simple eyes. He was so shiny.

"It's one my grandfather told me," he continued. "Come on."

Wanting to be all inclusive, he waited until she joined him. For some reason, she shied away from her peers, though she seemed older. There was an intelligence in her eyes that wasn't yet present in the others.

As Ryan parked in the far corner of the room, the tiny tikes surrounded him. The Tahoe hesitantly pulled forward towards him, but stopped. He reached out and patted the floor next to him.

"Come on over," he invited.

She slowly drove over, parked next to him, and settled against his side. He was warm. Warm and pretty and shiny. She liked him.

Ryan told the kids the story of the big tiebreaker race, complete with pictures he'd drawn himself and exaggerated sound effects. It was too good a story to not have supplemental material.

Time passed quickly. He told the story to one group of kids, and then to the next. They all loved it, regardless of their understanding. They loved him. And he enjoyed every second of it. Of all his fans, kids were his favorite.

At the end of the day, Team Blinkr gathered up their equipment to leave. Ryan was tired, but didn't necessarily want to depart just yet. His mind drifted over the possibility of having one of these little guys as his own. The echoes of his conscience reminded him "You're too young." or "You don't know how to raise a child." and so on. He didn't much care. He knew enough. He was willing to learn.

But it wasn't the time. There was a race in three days he wanted - no, that he _needed_ to win. He could feel it. He could beat Storm. He had the talent. His team ushered him to the doors after a brief, but heartfelt goodbye to the kids.

"Wait," a small voice said from off to the side.

Ryan came to a halt so fast his tires squeaked on the linoleum floor. He looked over to see those dark green eyes staring back at him. She had a folded piece of paper under her tire.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he asked, pushing his way toward her. "Whatcha got there?"

"Something for you," she said timidly. "If you want it."

She unfolded the off-white piece of construction paper and showed it to him. His eyes widened. It looked amazing. Not the kind of amazing a toddler usually creates with a bunch of haphazard scribbles and meaningless shapes, but genuinely astounding.

Ryan looked up at her. "Did you make this?"

She nodded. He looked back down. It was a picture of her sitting next to him. He was reading the story he'd recited so many times that day. Every line, every color was perfect. Had she not handed it to him in person, he never would have believed a child was capable of such accuracy, such _art_. Even his livery was accurately drawn.

"This… this is beautiful," he told her. "Are you sure you want me to have it?"

"I made it for you," she pushed it toward him gently.

"I love it," he said, looking at it closer. "Thank you - uh, what's your name?"

"Tara," she answered quietly.

"Well, Tara, thank you so much for this. I'm gonna frame this when I get home."

"You will?"

Her eyes brightened. In their reflection, he saw himself.

"Of course."

That night, Ryan couldn't sleep. He knew he had practice in the morning. He knew that he didn't perform well on less than copious amounts of sleep.

The picture stared back at him from where he'd propped it up on a shelf in his trailer. In the darkness, it looked like a photo. It looked like something he'd always had. Like something he needed.

The sun rose the next morning. Ryan Laney wasn't in his trailer. He wasn't at the track.

The receptionist at the front desk had just flipped the sign to "Open" when he barged in without remorse.

"Where's Tara?"

He hadn't really planned on her.

But he loved her.


	2. Chapter 2

"And this over here is the stand where the officials watch the race," Ryan whispered to her as they passed it. "From here, they can give us penalties we don't deserve."

Tara stared in awe in the direction he had pointed. She'd never been to a racetrack before - she'd never been outside the adoption center before. The world was fascinating.

A sharp laugh sounded behind them. Tara jumped at the sudden noise.

"What're you talkin' about, man? You were _totally_ speeding down pit road. That penalty was on _you_."

The two cars turned to face the voice. Ryan smiled.

"Get outta here, Bubba," he returned in kind. "It was less than one mile an hour. I don't wanna hear it."

"Where you been?" Bubba asked, coming over and bumping his best friend on the fender. "Dude, you missed practice this morning."

"Yeah, well, I…" Ryan stuttered, looking to Tara.

"Oh, hanging out with the kids again?" Bubba smiled at the little girl. "Can't get enough of that publicity stuff, can you? Hey, kid, I'm Bubba! Nice to meet you."

Tara's eyes widened at the familiarity of the name. Her new dad had told her about a Bubba earlier, right after he'd signed the papers and drove out the door with her.

"Uncle Bubba?" she asked Ryan.

"Uh." He didn't really know how to respond. This was not how he'd pictured this conversation happening. "Yeah, this is your uncle Bubba. Bubba this is Tara, my - daughter…?"

Bubba's smile faltered slightly as he stared his friend down. Ryan's eyes flitted around, trying to avoid the hole that Bubba's stare was boring into his windshield.

"Oh," Bubba responded in a fake, but lighthearted tone. "Well, then. Looks like we've got a lot to talk about, kiddo."

His cutting glare said otherwise. With a kind smile at Tara, Bubba pulled Ryan to the side and lowered his voice.

"Dude."

"I know, I know what you're gonna say," Ryan didn't give him much of a chance to speak. "But I made my decision. I'm not sorry."

" _Dude_. I just - I can't - What were you thinking?" Bubba whispered. "You don't know how to raise a kid! You don't know anything about kids. Other than you like them."

"Is that not enough?" Ryan asked defensively. "I knew what I wanted. I went and got it."

Bubba sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, thinking hard and trying to decompress at the same time. He knew this had been bound to happen at some point. He just didn't think it would be so soon.

"Okay, okay. Listen, Laney, I'm here for you, I support you. But I think you're crazy."

"Yeah, what else is new?"

Bubba let out another pent up sigh of disbelief, but it ended in a chuckle. "Ah, suddenly, I feel like I've adopted this kid, too."

He turned back to the awaiting SUV behind Ryan. "Hey Tara, you, me, we're gonna go get cupcakes later, okay? After the race, I'm taking you out. Daddy can come and third-wheel if he wants to. We're gonna have Uncle Bubba and Tara time, okay?"

The Tahoe's face lit up into a big smile. "Okay!"

Bubba turned back to Ryan and cast a smug grin at him. "What's yours is mine, eh? You're welcome."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. You're buying."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Bubba shrugged as he rolled past.

"I like red velvet!" Ryan called after him.

Tara drove up next to the Blinkr racer and waved goodbye to her newfound friend. Bubba winked at her and revved his engine as he turned away. She giggled.

"I like him," she said. "Do you think he likes me?"

"Of course he does," Ryan answered. "Bubba doesn't buy cupcakes for just anyone, y'know. Now, what do you wanna see next?"


End file.
